Life’s as clear these here murky waters
by Dusk Jane
Summary: A woman who seeks the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, whom she has never before met, but to what point and purpose? Has she underestimated the man she seeks? After meeting him will she be able to do what she came there to do? First Potc fic please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of this and am making no profit from this.

** Summary:** A woman who seeks the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, who she has never before met, but to point and purpose? Has she underestimated the man she seeks? After meeting him will she be able to do what she came there to do? First POTC fic please R&R.

**Needle in a haystack she not**

Bars in Tortuga are certainly not few and far between, neither even more so are 'women of the night' as they say. So someone looking for one in particular would be searching for the needle in the haystack. Fortunately this young woman knew pretty well where she could find the one she was looking for.

She entered a bar in Tortuga with a determined walk, but hesitation in her mind. She looked pretty with long dark hair and a tall pleasing figure. She sat down and tried to look like she belonged, but it was clear she didn't.

"What'll ya be 'aving lass?" the guy behind the bar asked routinely.

"What ever you've got?"

The guy, noticing her attention was not on the conversation at hand because her cold blue eyes were skimming the surroundings as if she was looking for someone, left her with. "I'll see what there is for ya."

The woman seemed quite undisturbed by the fight ensuing a few tables away from her over a whore. She just looked on with an iron expression.

The guy then retuned with a drink of something sewage coloured and placed it in front of her, but didn't go away. He hesitated at the strange figure before him and voiced his curiosity, "Do ya mind me askin' what the nature o' your business in town is miss?"

"No I don't mind you asking, in fact I'd be grateful if you could give me some help locating someone." She began as she turned and faced the barman with a newfound interest in him her voice filled with intrigue. "I'm looking for a pirate… but at current I'd love to find a woman…. of a certain nature of business, if you know what I mean. I've heard of her and feel she would be a great help in locating the man I'm after."

"Well if she's a regular I should know 'er. Got 'er name miss?" The guy said to her honestly.

The woman sipped her drink and gave him the information. "Yeah, her name is Giselle."

The man stood for a moment then answered. "Yeah I've seen 'er here before…erm… tall blond right?"

"Apparently so." Was all the reply he received from this comment.

Then he continued "Well…er…I think you'll find 'er oh over there with that guy, she's the woman in yellow, right there lass."

With this the woman merely thanked the barman and walked over to the woman who was pointed out. She left the drink on the table having decided it tasted as bad as it looked. When she reached the woman for a moment she stood before her and only looked at her.

Then Giselle, realizing this young woman was not going away, looked up and said. "What d'ya want lass? I'm busy."

"I can see that. I was just wanting to talk to you and I could make it worth your while." The young woman's manner was cold as she said this.

Giselle contemplated this for a moment, then stood up and said, "Well…fine but ya gotta be quick right?"

"Alright."

The woman then preceded to follow Giselle over to empty table. Once there Giselle took a seat and asked. "D'ya 'ave a name love?"

"I'm Alison." The woman said straightforwardly.

"Nice to meet ya now what d'ya need to know?" Giselle asked with a bit of interest.

"I was wondering if you could tell me everything you know about Captain Jack Sparrow and where you think I might be able to find him?"

"What d'ya think I am lass his mother? How am I meant to know where he is?" Giselle cried at the request from the woman.

"Well I was sorta hoping he might have mentioned something to you about where he planed to go now that it's said he's got his ship back?" The Alison reasoned to Giselle. "Anything you can give me about where he's going would be helpful. As well as any information you can give me about Jack Sparrow himself would be greatly appreciated."

"And why should I tell you all this girl?" Giselle stated with a smile.

Alison pulling out a bag of gold that had hung from her belt and rested inthe foldsof thefabric of her dress. "'Cause if you cooperate, I'm willing to pay you well for your time."

After her chat with Giselle, Alison knew her best chance of finding the man she was looking for was if she went to a wedding.

TBC


	2. A quick visit

Alison had plans to attend the wedding at Port Royal but first she needs to get there and that could take a while so she needed to eat something. So, she used the excuse that 'it would be rude to just pass right through Tortuga with out visiting the Thomson's' house', to justify an unannounced intrusion into their home.

Of course it didn't matter that she hadn't seen any of the Thomson's in an age because Mrs Thomson was, as always, only too delighted that she had stopped by. "My goodness is that you Alison, all grown up! Come in! Come in and sit down."

After, having allowed the hysterical woman to fuss over her, Alison was relieved to be told that she 'must stay for dinner' because Mrs Thomson 'wouldn't have it any other way'. Alison was grateful to Mrs Thomson's generosity of food because she hadn't had anything that could be called food for days.

"What in heaven's are you doing around here, dear? Not that we're all not happy to see you but it is a bit far and hardly the nicest area. I swear it hadn't been home for so long we'd move out straight away." Mrs Thomson thundered around the kitchen cleaning up for her visitor as she continued her motherly lecture. "It's no place for you…. with all the bars this area is just overflowing with drunkards; it's a disgrace."

"Oh aye, but if it weren't for that disgrace we'd be out on the streets and starving wouldn't we?" Mr Thomson injected with a smile at Alison that clearly was mocking his wife's unsubtle nagging.

Alison smiled back knowing full well what he was on about. The Thomson's made beer and mead that sold to many of the local bars. This steady business had kept their children in half decent clothes. She also knew that, although Mrs Thomson made this play of despairing of the place, she really loved Tortuga for giving her family such an easy life.

"Well just because we profit from it doesn't make it any less of a disgrace, just think what Allison mother would think? You coming here is sweet an' all, but people waste away here. It's the beer that gets to their heads. They forget who they are and spend days hunting for fortune to allow them to continue their drinking."

"Amen to that, well now we've covered my life, let us not lecture the company. Especially such lovely company as this ma." A young man strolled into the kitchen and flopped down onto the chair opposite Alison. He was drunk and not hiding it, nor did he hide his eyes wondering over Allison's body. "Give the girl a break I'm sure she's just passing through aren't ya lass?"

"Sure am. Hey Joe, remember me?" Alison asked knowing he wouldn't, but taking delight in watching him rack his inebriated brain for some recollection.

After a while of this he turned to her and slurred, "I can honestly say I don't, which is a shock to me. I'm sure I'd remember such a fine acquaintance as yourself."

"You remember Alison don't ya Joe? Little Ally, used to travel a bit with her father. You two were inseparable as kids running round the street playing pirates when she came to visit." His father helped jog his memory and his mother scoffed at the thought of them running wild around the streets of Tortuga.

"Oh that Alison. I do hope you have a nice time while you're here. I'll have to show you around some time." Clearly Joe did not have a clue who she was and as such was unconcerned. With that he fell asleep sat at the table with his head full of hair sprawled across the breakfast table.

"Anyhow." His mother using this chance to continue her nagging. "You had better not be hoping to make a living off these streets girl because I won't have it. If I find that's the case I'll send back to you mother in a moments notice. That poor woman has had too much upset in her life, losing her husband then ya brother. If you plan to make that worse by becoming a worthless whore I don't think she'd survive the sadness."

"Now dear you know Alison, she has the morals her father taught her. She'd never do such a thing. The suggestion is ludicrous." He gave Alison a look that apologised for his wife as he took his seat at the table. Once seated he shoved his drunken son's head in a harsh manner and yelled at him.

Joe came round looking startled, "What d'ya do that for. I was only resting me eyes."

"You're resting your eyes, snoring and drooling in front o' company and on the very table we're 'bout to eat from. I swear you've had your life too easy lad. The work I do to keep you and you appreciated none of it. Never grateful for anything though are you?"

"I do my share!" The boy trying hard to stay awake and appear honestly appalled.

"And then the money you do scrounge up is wasted on a drink too soon drank and a whore too soon…" The old mans speech continued for the most part of dinner, but Alison had no complaints. Food was food and company was company. Although the remark about her fathers raising her to have morals had hit hard seeing as she could imagine the disgrace of some of the things she'd done to get this far. However, she argued it didn't matter, he wasn't around and with no males around for the task it was her job to sort things out. _With any means necessary?_ She thought, but felt this may be unjustifiable. The worst was yet to come though she'd never killed a man before. She'd threatened lots, scared some out of their wits, tied up, robed, seriously injured a few, even compromised one man's capacity for creating children; but never killed. Yet that was her plan as best as she could picture it. _Unless he begged_, she pondered, a man on his knees and begging had always weakened her defences.

All her musing just made Alison more hurried to get the hell out of Tortuga, but she also knew she shouldn't bite the hand that feeds her. So it was that with this and a little explaining to the Thomson's that she had got roped into a few days work for the Thomson's brewery. Well the explaining may have been lying as she daren't say the truth because they'd ship her back home in half the time it had taken her to get here if they knew her intentions. This labour would make up for the effort they'd take to pull a few strings and get her passage to Port Royal. One less thing on her to do list and one step closer to her objective.


	3. Head hammering

A male figure staggered drunkenly over the deck, a very handsome, figure with long dark hair, youth. His features were dark, yet there was a devilish smile that could be detected when either liquor or ladies were presented before him. As he strode closer with that signature stagger the waft of rum was sensed. This man was both familiar and a stranger, while being unwelcome and yet sought.

She'd found him yet her legs would not move, she could not move, fear and hatred mixed in with a touch of admiration as Alison let the memory take control of her dream. She'd been so young when she'd last seen this mystery man, and she couldn't deny his pirating was legendary and had been enough to cause her stare in awe. _No I can't think that_ she thought. _And I haven't found him yet._ _That's not him this isn't real, he'd be older now much older, far less awe inspiring_ she rationalised as she slipped into awareness.

Head hammering with the leftover remnants of last night's liquor that were slowly working their way out. Alison had ventured out to celebrate her departure with the over-zealous Joe Thomson and many of his friends last night and found herself on the cold floor of the Thomson's kitchen. She was left with a fogy haze that haunted her consciousness causing her vision to be unclear meaning she stayed in her uncomfortable position on the floor. She didn't trust her legs to carry her own weight. She mentally cursed herself for not being able to handle the amount she'd drunk. She didn't care to remember the night events other than she'd obviously consumed a large amount of alcohol, none of which she'd have had the money to pay for_. Men have some uses and at least I'm inside_, she thought thinking back to a few, all too recent experience of waking up in stinking alleys with no clue how she'd made it there.

She had nearly convinced herself the cure would be to down a whole bottle and wait for it to kick in, despite knowing it would only be delaying the inevitable, when a loud noise caught her attention. The noise in question was too real to be in her head so she decided it must have originated in the room next door from her and was defiantly beginning to sound like an immediate threat. So once again she had to assess her current state and capacity for movement.

Someone was clattering down the stairs very ungracefully. Then the figure turned onto the hall way, she could see it was male. There was a breeze of spirits scents sent toward her as the figure approached. Her waking eyes merged this frame with that of the dream she'd been having and came up with a half imagined and wholly terrible impossible possibility that it may be him wandering down the narrow hallway. She did not feel ready to meet with him and could not have thought of a worse time for herself to be met with the prospect of it. She internally cursed every drop of liquor she'd had the night before and wished for the strength to stand.

During this mental chastisement the stranger had drunkenly stumbled closer. When Alison finally allowed reason to catch up with her runaway mind, she managed to force her uncoordinated brain to actually look at the man and relay the true image of his features. She recognised the face immediately and allowed herself to rest knowing that the impossible had not occurred and it was only another inhabitant of the Thomson's house. She lay back down in comfort of knowing Joe clearly felt as bad as she did and was of little more danger to her than the rats that ventured in the alleyways she'd slept in before.


End file.
